The enemy was quick to single her out. Scouters pinging as they picked out a power level that didn't match with the rest of her so-called crew. With her arm and the others wounds she carried around it was likely even lower than she was used to. Apara simply didn't care. Conscripts aimed weapons her way, warriors ignored her for tougher opponents. She hated all of them.
Apara charged, the energy blasts directed at her weren't made from within like hers was. The product of weaponry and tech she didn't care to understand. She dodged some, let others pass her by, and took the rest in stride as a Saiyan should. It was the expectation of her race to sweep such paltry attempts at real power aside, show them that weapons aside from fist and flesh were useless in the face of a true warrior race.
Still, as the skin along her raised arms bubbled and popped she was reminded that the same truths the rest of her kind lived by did not exist for her in the same way. Some small part of her wanted to stop, wanted to weep. It was her pride that kept her moving. Conscripts aimed at her, expecting a weak target. She showed them the error of that thought when her weak, weak flesh met their own pathetic hides.
The first among the group she chose to charge was kneeling in a loose collection of bodies and debris, the skin on his green face peeled back into an expression of fear and doubt. She twisted over a wild swing as she flew, her hands reaching out to grab the sides of his head. When her feet touched the ground behind him Apara wrenched his body downward in time to intercept the wave of red light flying towards her. The impacts sent her and the freshly burning corpse sliding backwards in the mud.
Apara hissed, hiding from the stark crimson blasts as they burned at her fingertips. The rain felt like liquid fire on her wounds. She could barely hear past her heartbeat.
By the time she caught her bearings her makeshift shield had been reduced to a charred torso she was holding by the collar of its armor. With a roar she began pushing against the tide, trudging forward, using her newfound power to mark out her position in response to the objects of her rage.
She was upon them in good time. It was easy to guess they were surprised at her speed from the way their energy responded. It was almost like having a finger on their pulse.
Five foes, three clustered together and two separated on either side of her position. The one to the left was a female of the same species as the corpse Apara was holding. Her skin was an off-color white tinged with green. The expression of surprise on her face when Apara lowered the body to reveal an attack charging from her outstretched palm was enough to make the saiyan laugh.
It was only a small orb of energy, barely the size of someone's head. Perfectly so in fact. When it flew out and struck the conscript with the hiss of burning air, all that remained was a charred skull. The body it was once attached to twitching with a sudden onset of commands it couldn't understand anymore.
In the same movement Apara tossed the torso in her grip at the group of three, sending the burnt mass of meat careening directly into the arms of one of his comrades, the sentient stumbling into the others. She was in front of him almost as he caught it, a look of disgust forming on his yellow bespeckled face before her hand shot out, tearing the mandible from his skull in one clean movement.
The burning pain and the rush of blood rocketing through her veins never stopped, but it was becoming easier to ignore as she was caught in the battle.
This was what she had been waiting for! What she was made for. She could barely keep up with her own movement, energy dwindling but adrenaline skyrocketing. Her body kept at a pace she couldn't match.
She could hear them yelling, trying to make a plan, she couldn't understand them until things started to snap back into focus, pain and frustration giving Apara her ears back for a moment before the sound faded into the rhythm of battle again.
"-Get away from her! I have a shot!"
Apara moved, spinning around them and putting their bodies between her and the speaker in one clean movement. Her eyes met the blue-green of a male, and she heard a surprised intake of breath.
Her fists clasped together and ignited with burning energy, leaving a flaming neck amid a headless corpse to her side. A trick she picked up in the cave. Something to make close up fights easier.
The conscript now at her right took a step back. His face was lit up from the shadow, revealed by the flickering flames still burning through her gloves. The fear in his eyes touched instincts she recognized easily. He screamed "Monster!", throwing a desperate jab in her direction, the blow easily landing in her suddenly outstretched fist. He gasped in pain, the conscript's bones creaking dangerously between her fingers.
She grabbed his other arm when it reached out to help pull the other away. The sizzling hiss of slowly burning flesh, breaking fingers and agonized screaming only made her tighten her grip. It was a sound she was happy to hear for a moment, holding onto the sentient for as long as it took to annoy her. Apara drew her head back, launching a mixture of cartilage and bone through the weakling's nasal cavity and lancing into his brain with a headbutt.
The last member of the squad decided to ignore his comrades' safety around the same instant, firing his armblaster a dozen times as she again wrenched a corpse in the way of a threat. The carcass seized as the dying being's mind registered yet more damage. The rain made it difficult to keep a grasp on.
Her fingers dug into the flesh of a leg, finding purchase and grip. He liked weapons? Apara would show him one. She ran forward, not ignoring but embracing the pain the leftover heat sent flickering down her arms. She didn't see it, but he tried to retreat, flying backward and up in an attempt to get a better angle of fire. Expecting her to be unable to follow without a clear line of sight.
Instead she was flying after him, surpassing his pace and anticipating his path. She heard him yell "What!?" before spinning in place, using the momentum to swing the body like a makeshift club. The resulting blood spatter forced her back and left Apara wiping at her eyes. The surprise was enough to remind Apara that her body was already in shambles. Was she finished already? So soon?
Apara took a knee, releasing an exhausted gasp as she tried to get control of her breathing. The chaos, and the fact they were winning was the only thing that kept anyone from putting her down.
The scouter Dennis had given her, a replacement to the one he destroyed, was whirring with the strain of keeping up with everything happening around them. She watched relatively fresh Diligent frost warriors tearing through conscripts and exhausted "allies" with ease. She felt the leadership cornering the enemies' own. Jell was fighting alongside the red man with a few other commanders. She hadn't been able to sense energy when she met the "captain", but instinct said that was him.
The stronger bugs had been fighting with the rest of the command staff, and both parties were exhausted by the time the others arrived. Their combined power levels unable to match the fresh faced members of the Frost.
The reality of being able to fully comprehend the difference between herself and others struck her at that moment. She couldn't just see it anymore, she could actually feel it, like a brush of heat against the skin. In a way her weakness was more tangible.
Apara stood, cradling her arm and walking forward into the whirlwind of violence surrounding her. She wanted to see it all for herself, to try and find the chance to keep fighting, so she followed Dennis' path. Without a battle she was getting sluggish, battle stupor giving way to clarity, and with it pain. It helped her to reflect.
She was burning low. She wondered if past the fighting anyone would be able to make out her power.
She felt when the combined powers of the commanders and their captain took out whatever the bugs had as a leader, alongside the leadership of the other ships. The others noticed when the rest of the bugs started getting sluggish, whatever shared mind they carried fading with the absence. The roars of victory brought new energy to those still fighting, and stole it from those on the wrong side. The fighting continued, in some ways even more violently than before. Those who lost were certain in the knowledge there was almost no way to escape, those who won sure reprieve was just around the corner.
Apara didn't join the celebration.
She knew her own power, she could recognize everyone else's in comparison. She understood the principle that powered Saiyan society, and to a smaller extent the rest of the galaxy under lord Freeza. Strength was all, and experience and luck was the only way to bridge even small gaps between two fighters.
The wider the gap in power, the less of a chance any warrior had against another.
Then there was Dennis. Anathema to that idea. She was only able to follow his position in the chaos because of how recognizable his power was, even with how difficult it was to put distinction into what she was sensing.
Knowing where he was supposed to be made it simpler to keep an eye on him, especially now that things were wrapping up. 'Simpler' meaning no longer completely impossible. He fought in bursts of explosive movement, finding new shadows to emerge from every few seconds to harass those who were already being cornered. What struck Apara about how he fought was just how measured it was.
Every foe Dennis came up against was met with just enough strength for the battle to be over in the same moment it began. Her scouter helpfully tracked the specifics of every engagement.
The first group she noticed was conscripts grouped together in a similar manner to the ones she had just slain. He came from above, power-level surging to a hundred and twenty with his blade in hand. He didn't so much dance around them as through them, whatever strange trick he did to the weapon allowing him to leave them in several still struggling pieces, their end coming quick enough that the bodies managed to bring their arms up in counter attack before collapsing into piles of meat that left her somewhat hungry.
When she next saw him he emerged from the mud to bury that sword into a warrior's eye, power flickering upward into the mid two-hundreds so quickly she almost thought she imagined it. Dennis tore the blade from the corpse, stepping back into the shadow, fading with every flash of energy until even she couldn't tell where he was.
She was closer when he fought last, jumping into a fight between two squads of warriors as they struggled to find who could last in a pitched battle. Dennis leapt in when one of them wasn't looking, pulling the being away so suddenly even their own comrades were surprised.
Sensing his energy when he decided to attack made it much easier to follow. To take in if not understand. It gave her a headache just to observe, but he was forcing his energy, his "ki" into something it wasn't. Making it thicker and faster, forcing it to act as if it was more, expelling it in a way that tricked his body into being stronger than it was. It was only for a brief time, she could see that, but he could adjust it to his circumstances perfectly.
It was telling against the conscripts, rating around 40 to 80. It was astounding against the warriors. She knew he wasn't as strong as them. Dennis was around two hundred and fifty. Even the weakest remaining warriors of the sister crews they had betrayed were twice that. He never forced himself to a level beyond them, never pushed his strength past exactly two hundred points below a warrior, or just twenty over a conscript.
He never let himself be caught out or noticed unless he wanted to be. It was unsaiyan, but the results spoke for themselves. It proved he had value, that his word was good. Apara liked that.
When she found Dennis he was in a small cave, a sort of crater made by a stray blast. He had an albino, horned warrior pinned to the wall. The stabbing implement he used was slowly being pulled horizontally across a heavily muscled abdomen, exposing innards to open air.
Dennis' eyes were coldly locked in place, meeting with the warriors' own. Two meaty hands were grasped around Dennis' neck, a third attempting to stop his blade from widening the wound. The fourth and final arm of the warrior had been cut off, lying uselessly against the ground.
Warrior Grevel Tunt-29547
Menacing Chilled
Power level: 586
The Menacing Chilled warrior was cursing in a language Apara couldn't understand, power dropping dozens of points by the second. Eventually, torturously, the sword began to move. Grevel's guts were spilling into the ground. The warrior slumped against Dennis around ten seconds later, still weakly trying to end his life.
The human who was her teacher inhaled deeply, before throwing the body aside and all but collapsing onto a relatively large rock jutting out nearby, his body sagging with sudden lack of energy. He didn't say anything to her, only looking up at her past the tangled mess of hair on his head and face. He was breathing hard.
Apara decided to sit with him.
"How many did you kill? Warriors I mean."
"Fourteen. Only the ones who were alone."
"Is the battle over?"
Dennis sighed, both of them listening to warriors as they either fought to the last or attempted surrender. They sat together and followed every death, every last stand as it happened all around them.
"It never will be."
Apara grinned. She wouldn't have it any other way.